The waiting nearly killed her, she had a busy day ahead of her and she was anxious to get started, but she couldn’t risk Tom or Shari returning home to fetch something they’d forgotten. Satisfied, Doris limped out of her bedroom and into the kitchen. She stared at the empty coffee pot and scowled. “Nobody ever thinks about me,” she grumbled.
After she had guzzled down two cups of strong coffee, burning her tongue in the process, Doris set off on the first phase of her mission. She carried her canvas shopping bag around the house, pinching little valuables as she went along. She laughed to herself as she worked. The urge to overdo it was great, but Doris fought it off. She spent half an hour in the honeymoon suite, carefully going through drawers and poking around in closets. She hit the mother lode here, finding diamonds and pearls and even a loaded handgun. Satisfied, her shopping bag brimming with goodies, Doris returned to her own bedroom and she hid the bag inside one of her new suitcases.
Feeling much better, Doris returned to the kitchen for another cup of coffee. She took it out to the garage and sipped it as she studied the tools that hung over the small workbench. As much as she hated to admit it, her new daughter in-law had an impressive collection of tools. The electric chainsaw was exactly what she had been looking for and Doris squealed with delight when she spotted it. She was consumed with the thought of getting into the house next door, and come hell or high water, nothing was going to stop her. She set her coffee cup down on the bench and began gathering up extension cords.
She was worried that the bookcase wouldn’t open, fearing Shari might have locked it, but when she pulled on the lever, the bookcase cooperated and revolved into the open position. Doris set the extension cords, work lights, and chainsaw, into the shadows and she closed up the secret passageway. She didn’t like it down there. She then went back into the garage and found her coffee cup. She filled it up and sat down at the table, waiting for the sound of the gate buzzer.
Marie Picacello was twenty minutes late, which didn’t surprise Doris at all. As far as Doris knew, her sister in-law had never been on time for anything in her entire life. Doris buzzed open the gate and she even paid the cab driver, giving the dark-skinned driver a dollar tip. The two women hugged as the cab sped away.
Doris had called Marie yesterday afternoon and the two women had hatched a plan. Doris hated Vince’s sister, but the hatred was a mutual thing and both women had learned to put it aside, long ago, providing it served their purposes. Marie asked Doris if she had put on weight and Doris asked Marie about the growth on her chin. They lit up cigarettes in the bright sunshine. As they smoked, the cigarette filters smeared with bright red lipstick, Doris outlined her plan of attack. “Can you run a chainsaw?” she asked.
Marie, a great bear of a woman with hair as black as charcoal, nodded her head and smiled. Holding her cigarette between her straight index and middle fingers, Marie took a long puff of smoke. “I can run a chainsaw as good as any man,” she said.
Both women laughed like jackals at that. Doris was sure she had made the right decision by calling Marie. When they were finished smoking, the women stomped the butts out on the patio and they walked inside. Doris led the way into the living room. “Watch this,” she said, reaching into the crevice and pulling the hidden lever.
Marie squealed like a stuck pig as the bookcase popped open. “I wish I had one of those in my apartment,” she said.
“Where would it go?” asked Doris, flipping on the light switch to the passageway.
“Where would it go? Are you kidding me? It would go into Clyde Bauer’s bedroom.”
The thought of her popping into Clyde Bauer’s bedroom was enough to make Doris burst into laughter. Bauer was the handsome widower who lived in Marie’s building, and the object of Marie’s darkest desires.
“Stop laughing,” said Marie, “that wasn’t funny.”
Doris disagreed, but she got herself under control. “What do you think is inside that place?” she asked, changing the subject.
Marie licked her lips and rubbed her hands together. “I don’t know,” she said, “But whatever it is, I’ll bet it’s worth a butt-load of money. I’m thinking silver and gold. And if she hasn’t been over there in years, she won’t remember everything that’s in that place. Why, from what you said on the phone, she doesn’t give two shits about anything in there. Let’s get our fat asses in gear!”
Doris didn’t like being called a fat ass, but she nodded anyway. She was excited to get moving. Shari and Tom were going to know what she had done, but Doris found that she didn’t care. What were they going to do, have them arrested? She thought that was laughable. And after those nasty things Shari had said about her, Doris felt that she had every right to explore the big house. For all she knew, Shari was hiding dead bodies over there. She was only looking out for her dimwitted son, Tommy. Doris plugged in one of the work lights and motioned for Marie to pick up the little chainsaw and the extension cords.
As they descended the stairs, Doris relived her experience from the previous day. Marie strung the extension cords together as they walked along the musty old tunnel, batting cobwebs out of her way like so many mosquitoes. She was a tough old gal, thought Doris, and a perfect fit for the job at hand.
Marie continued dropping the power cord as they wound their way up the spiral staircase. “I haven’t felt this alive in years,” she said, excitedly, her words echoing off of the stone walls. “What would Vince say if he saw us, now?”
“He’s probably rolling over in his grave,” said Doris, holding the work light up to where the passageway was blocked.
“Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“He was such a goody two-shoes; too good for his own damn good.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, damn it, I’m just making conversation. Now, do you see this wall? You need to cut a door into it. Make sure it’s big enough so we don’t have to crawl. My poor knees are all beat to shit.”
“Oh really, and how did that happen?” asked Marie, suggestively.
“Will you get your mind out of the gutter and get going with that chainsaw?”
Marie laughed as she plugged the chainsaw into the extension cord. Luckily, there had been just enough. Their shadows danced on the walls as Doris jostled herself into position. Marie put her finger on the trigger and the chainsaw zinged to life. The electric whine was deafening. The women gave each other a nod; and like a woman possessed, Marie attacked the wall.
Chapter 9
Merle Levitz sat down across the desk from Jack Peabody and he crossed his arms. This wasn’t his first trip inside the Oval Office, so it was easy for him to stare at Jack without being distracted or intimidated. “Don’t look so confused.” said Levitz. “You know why I’m here.”
President Peabody put his elbows on his desk and folded his hands together. “Look, if this is about the farm bill… I had nothing to do with it being held up in committee. These things happen, Merle.”
“I’m not here because of the farm bill. I’m here because I’m tired of being a target. Do you take me for a fool?”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Get off it, Jack. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Ricin in the mail, pilot lights mysteriously going out in my townhome, losing the brakes in a brand new car, that’s what I’m talking about. I want some answers, Jack. I want you to call your people off. I knew you played dirty, but I never expected you to stoop to this level.”
President Peabody squirmed in his chair. “What are you trying to say, Merle? Are you saying that someone is trying to kill you? And that surprises you? Merle, you’ve made a lot of enemies with some very serious players. How dare you come into this office and blatantly accuse me of such a thing? Whatever you’ve done, you’ve brought it on yourself. Now, I can see to it that you have extra security. Will there be anything else? I have a busy schedule.”
“I’m onto you, Jack. I’
m not going to be the next Bobby Kennedy. I want extra security and I want it now… today. And as a matter of fact, there is something else. What in the world is going on, out there?” Levitz asked, pointing to the door. “There are mosques popping up all over the country. Governor Montgomery called me this morning. Do you want to know what he said? He said that he had converted to Islam.”
“A lot of people have been converting to Islam. I guess it must be the in thing to do. What does that have to do with us?”
“Get off it, Jack. People just don’t wake up in the morning and change their faith. Something is going on and you know it. The people of Minnesota have a right to know what’s going on. I plan to find out.”
“Merle, will you stop grandstanding? I have no idea why people are converting to Islam. And quite frankly, it’s none of my business. Now, is there anything else?”
Levitz stood up and glared at Peabody. “I don’t know what you’re up to, Jack, but I’m making it my business to find out. Don’t mess with me.”
Peabody rolled his eyes and Levitz spun around and walked out the door. When he was gone, Peabody sunk back into his chair. Things were not going according to plan. They had bungled their chances at taking Levitz out of the game. This angered Peabody, for he had been against the plan from the start. To make matters worse, Levitz was onto them. He would say what other Senate members were afraid to even think. This worried Peabody. Something had to be done. President Peabody picked up his secure cellphone and placed a call to Carlson. The big man answered on the first ring.
Chapter 10
For the third time that morning, Shari was reapplying her makeup. She hadn’t cried this much since her parents had been killed. Her coworkers had thrown an impromptu party for her. The entire paper seemed to be there and Shari couldn’t remember the last time she had felt such complete happiness. She only wished that Tom had been there to share her happiness.
She felt as if this were all a dream. That Tom would wake her up and her face would sink back into place. She raised both of her eyebrows and smiled, evenly, as she applied her makeup. She was shocked at what a simple joy that was.
She was surprised to see that the party was over when she returned to the newsroom. Confused, Shari walked over to chat with her friend, Herb Knowles, who wrote for the variety section of the paper. Herb, a little man with big glasses, sat behind his computer screen. He pointed at it and looked at Shari. “Have you been watching this?” he asked. “The stock market is crashing. Nobody knows where it’s going to stop.”
Shari covered her mouth, remembering her telephone conversation with Rick Wellman. “How far has it fallen?” she asked, terrified to hear the answer.
“The Dow is down almost ten thousand points,” whispered Herb. “I better call my broker.”
“Ten thousand points?” gasped Shari. She needed to call Rick and find out how this affected her investments. In a complete panic, Shari ran to her desk and began to flip through her rolodex. She found Rick’s private number and she quickly punched it into her desk phone. She waited for a long moment for the call to connect, but was only rewarded with a busy signal. Shari slammed the receiver down into the cradle and she tried the number again. The results were the same and she had to fight the urge to scream. From outside her cubicle, Shari could hear grown men crying like babies.
Again and again, Shari redialed Rick’s private number, but the line was still busy. She tried the main number at the brokerage, but was greeted with the same results. She fired up her laptop and was appalled at what she saw. The dollar was sinking like a brick and nobody seemed to know how to stop it. She sent Rick several emails, each marked urgent. She tried his number again. Not knowing who else to call, Shari dialed Tom’s cellphone.
“Hey baby,” said Tom. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
Shari could picture him at the construction site, and she found that she couldn’t tell him what was going on in the outside world. More tears fell. “No, you haven’t,” she stammered.
“I love you more than any man has ever loved any woman. I mean that. I was talking to Sam on the way over to Ma’s house. I’m going to start working out and I’m going on a diet. What do you think of that?”
“That’s wonderful,” whispered Shari, watching in horror as her computer announced that the Dow was down a full eleven thousand points, and it was still falling. “How are things going down there?” she asked, numbly.
“You wouldn’t believe it,” said Tom. “The appliances are in and the electricians are almost finished. They’re supposed to start in with the sheetrock this afternoon. Sam is working like a madman, you should see him. And Chona says not to worry, we’re on schedule to finish tomorrow night at seven. Isn’t that great news?”
“Yes, it certainly is.”
“You don’t sound too happy about it. Say, some guys down here are saying the stock market is really taking a beating. Did you hear anything about that?”
“Yes, I did hear something about that. Don’t worry, honey. I’m sure it will work itself out. I love you, Tom. I’ll see you around lunchtime.”
“I love you, too,” replied Tom. “I’ve never eaten at Murray’s. I’m pretty excited to see what all the fuss is about.”
“Me too,” said Shari. “Goodbye.”
“Goodbye,” said Tom, his voice trailing off in confusion.
Shari hung up the phone and tried Rick’s number again. Once again, she slammed the receiver back onto the cradle.
At precisely the same moment, Rick was about ready to do some slamming of his own. High above the streets of Manhattan, he stood on the observation deck of his office tower. Several men, and even a few women, had already jumped. Rick had even known a few of them; some by face, others by name, he had watched them leap over the edge. From down below, he had heard the distant screams of the pedestrians. Rick prayed that he didn’t hit anyone when he landed. He had lost everything, but worse, he had lost everything that he had been trusted to invest. The conscience none of them were supposed to have drove them over the edge.
And knowing that simple truth, Rick said a quick prayer and he jumped.
Tom spent the late hours of the morning dodging a local television reporter and her cameraman. He felt bad about avoiding them, he had never been on television, but Shari was writing the story and Tom felt that giving an interview would be like a betrayal. Worse than that, he was worried his mother might catch wind of the story. Tom thought about his mother and how she might react to seeing her new home. There were several possible scenarios. The first, Tom’s favorite, was that she would instantly fall in love with the house. The brand new house had nearly twice the finished square footage of her old place and it was now the nicest house on the block, what was there not to be happy about?
For as long as Tom could remember, his mother had always been different. She was emotionally dyslexic, or something very close to that. She complained about blue skies and puppies and ducklings and anything else that brought joy to normal people. For all intents and purposes, she detested happiness. The only thing she seemed to enjoy was pain and suffering, but not her own. She had been saying “welcome to my world” long before it had become fashionable. When she did experience pain and suffering, his mother’s pain was far worse than anything anyone else had ever experienced. Tom remembered his father coming home after a long day at work; a broken, beaten-down man, with a severe case of rheumatoid arthritis. He rarely complained about anything, but when he did, his mother felt it was her duty to top him. Trying to get sympathy out of her was like trying to draw water from out of a rock.
The second scenario, the most likely way Tom saw this playing out, was unthinkably ugly. Nothing would be right and his mother would throw a fit that she hadn’t been consulted. She might even demand that the new house be torn down. Tom hated to think about his mother that way, but he knew it was a very real possibility. He put his face in his hands as he imagined her seeing the house for the first time. He pictured the men and
women who had built her home, lined up outside the house, anxiously waiting for her reaction. He could see her neighbors filling the sidewalks and television crews filming the unveiling of the new house. He saw his mom wearing her devil face, her fingers curling up into claws, glaring at him as if he had just punched the Pope. He could her screaming obscenities, not caring who heard or what anyone thought.
And then he thought of Shari.
Shari didn’t know his mother like he did. What would she think of him after seeing her in action? What if his mom became so angry that she took a sledge hammer to the house? Tom could see this happening, for it was the opposite reaction of a normal person, which would seem perfectly normal to her.
Tom tried to free his mind of these terrible thoughts, but like a bad smell, they kept seeping back into his brain. He should have warned Shari. This was a great idea, a wonderful gift, but they had just chosen the wrong recipient. He was going to have to say something to Shari. Tom just wasn’t sure about what he should say. How do you tell your new wife that your mother is an ingrate? Tom didn’t know.
Shari arrived at half past twelve. Tom and Chona met her at her car. After she got over her joy of seeing Shari with a normal face, Chona gave her the grand tour. Shari seemed distracted, distant, as if her mind was a million miles away. Sam, wearing his hardhat and tool-belt, walked over and shared a funny story with them, but Shari barely smiled. They were soon in Shari’s BMW. “I’m sorry,” she said, “but I couldn’t get us a reservation at Murray’s. Do you mind if we just grab some fast food?”
Tom nodded, remembering his diet, but craving a double cheeseburger. “That’s fine,” he said. “Shari, what’s going on with you? This morning you were on top of the world, now you’re down in the dumps. You’re not having second thoughts about me, are you?”
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